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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26839843">Courting Fíli</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarigoldVance/pseuds/MarigoldVance'>MarigoldVance</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hobbit - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ered Luin, F/M, Middle Earth, Traditions, courting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:41:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,061</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26839843</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarigoldVance/pseuds/MarigoldVance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">[<i>from <a href="https://marigoldvance.tumblr.com/">my Tumblr</a> <a href="https://marigoldvance.tumblr.com/post/625390973208428544/courting-f%C3%ADli-part-one-written-for">series</a></i>]</span>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>When you met, he’d been the perfect gentleman; a polite bow of the head, a dry kiss to the back of your hand, your mother and his charmed by the display of well bred respect. You curtsied, he smiled - such a little thing, just at the corners, but it brightened up the world - and that was that. He was moved along by his uncle to greet the next guest, a Fairbairn hobbit maid and her father who you had the pleasure of travelling with (if sarcasm could kill…).</i></p><p> </p><p>OR:</p><p>you and Fíli were introduced at a banquet held in his honor. once his interest is revealed to his mother, things are set in motion that neither of you were prepared for.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fíli (Tolkien)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegolasLovely/gifts">LegolasLovely</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fíli is more rebellious than you were first led to believe. </p><p>When you met, he’d been the perfect gentleman; a polite bow of the head, a dry kiss to the back of your hand, your mother and his charmed by the display of well bred respect. You curtsied, he smiled - such a little thing, just at the corners, but it brightened up the world - and that was that. He was moved along by his uncle to greet the next guest, a Fairbairn hobbit maid and her father who you had the pleasure of travelling with (<em>if sarcasm could kill…</em>). </p><p>You hoped for his sake that she and her father weren’t sat anywhere near Fíli. The maid had a tendency toward vulgarity and not the amusing kind. Still, you weren’t there for Fíli and so weren’t overly concerned about his doings that evening. You’d been invited for his brother, Kíli, who was next to greet you, a glint of something cheeky in his eye when he winked at you from under thick lashes. </p><p>Kíli was beautiful but something made you hesitate to return his flirtations throughout the evening. Perhaps it was the way you noticed Fíli trying to catch your eye throughout supper, or the way he’d duck his head whenever he managed it, as if shy at having been caught. It made you blush. It made Kíli curious and rather bold about the topics he chose to discuss. </p><p>Such as Fíli’s proclivity to dipping naked in the river. And Fíli’s odd enjoyment of stripping off his tunic when he spars. Also, how he does have rather magnificent lips, doesn’t he, hm? </p><p>You were raised favorably, your parents were highly thought of in those circles and by many outside of them, you’d been taught how to present yourself in front of folk with titles like Kíli. And yet you couldn’t help it when your hand found his knee and <em>clutched</em>, fingers digging into the meat just above with enough strength that Kíli snapped his mouth shut with an audible <em>clack</em>. </p><p>He chose more understated subjects of conversation for the remainder of your stay at the banquet. You told him before you were escorted out how much you appreciated his company. He grimaced. </p><p>A few days later, a letter arrived for you bearing the royal seal, stamped in a wax of deep blue that reminded you of the sky under moonlight. The seal itself was personalized, you realized after some scrutiny. It wasn’t the typical Durin rune but one more specific: <em>Fíli</em>. </p><p> </p><p>You weren’t sure that you’d made any sort of impression whatsoever on him given that you hadn’t had the opportunity to speak at all during the banquet but it seemed then that you had. You knew it, somehow; that it wasn’t in your imagination, that Fíli had been trying to gain and keep your attention all night even when he was sat practically at the opposite end of the table from you and his brother. The disappointment in his eyes when you announced your departure <em>had </em>been real. </p><p>And he was asking to meet you. <em>Formally</em>. </p><p>Except—  </p><p><em>Oh my</em> …</p><p>Except that his mother’s signature was nowhere to be found on the letter. It’s considered quite taboo not to have a witness to a desired courting. Some even go so far as to ignore the courtship altogether if a witness hadn’t been present to approve it. Yet, there was Fíli’s name, alone, at the bottom of the page, proceeding a very short and to-the-point letter stating how you haven’t left his mind since the banquet and how he would be honored to see you again. </p><p>Indeed, it seems Fíli is far more rebellious than you were first led to believe … </p><p>Which is precisely why you’ll say yes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You aren’t sure what to expect as you’re escorted through the public wing of the Royal Halls of Nogrod. </p><p>Most of the city has been remade to suit its refugees: new statues of dwarven kings and heroes celebrated in Erebor; higher ceilings and wider corridors, more channels for liquid light. The mining district turned mid-sect quarter retains much of its working charm, the former merchants’ quarter above it now houses the upper-sect, and the old market tunnel below it has, over the last few years, fallen into disrepair and become a slum of sorts among the lower-sect. </p><p>Truly, the Durin kings made the most of the tunnels they were ceded by the remaining Broadbeams. Though a lot of the new city is concentrated in the middle of the old one - where dwellers made homes close to the gates when they arrived all those years ago - it is <em>used </em>entirely for its resources. Forges and mines and refineries and sprawling areas for small businesses and so on and so on.    </p><p>Here, in the Royal Halls, unlike much of Nogrod, are windows that open to overlook Ossiriand. There are subtle signs of opulence in the stone, polished and pleasing to the eye as the glittering veins travel like the current of a stream further into the mountain. They disappear from your sight up ahead, behind the doors to the private tunnels shared by the Longbeards and the Durins. </p><p>Your usher turns to the left and down a corridor just before the doors, leading you toward what you recognize to be one of the many Day Chambers where the Daughter of the King hosts lunches and gossips for the women of the court. </p><p>Your usher shows you to a rather plush divan set below a large cut of window. He rattles off how you’re expected to act once your host enters (curtsy, eyes to the floor… You know how to be demure, you’ve had a lifetime to perfect it, so you let your usher’s words roll over you like a breeze) and then turns on his heel and leaves. </p><p>Once you’re alone, you heave a sigh of relief and sag a little in your seat. Propriety is for presentation, as you mother always says. And it can suck an egg when there’s no one around to present to. </p><p>Glancing about, you see the room is shaped differently than what you’re familiar with, its walls arcing into an oval. Most of the left side is made in the fashion of a solarium like the ones you’ve seen in the cities of Elves. An opening has been made in the mountain, high and wide and curving up toward the center of the ceiling, filled with glass set in a criss-crossy iron frame. </p><p>Beneath it, there is a garden with fluffy bushes and small trees, various flora in simple colors, and a bower to the side with a table and chair and a short stack of books. </p><p>Although meant for receiving guests, you wonder how often this room is used as a private escape. You certainly see the appeal, it’s —</p><p>“Wonderful, isn’t it?”</p><p>In most situations, you’re composed, sturdy-footed, strong-shouldered; a perfectly respectable maiden who doesn’t reveal herself in loud tones or wild gestures. In most situations, however, you aren’t startled into the grave by a smooth, rich voice coming from right behind you when, the last you looked, you were completely alone. </p><p>Naturally, you shriek. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fíli knows that his mother knows that Fíli isn’t at all interested in these proceedings; the silly ceremony of it. Banquets are all well and good when they’re held to honor someone else, Fíli thinks. Attention has never been something he enjoyed (unlike Kíli, who thrives in it) and it’s going to be made much worse now when the nobles and courtiers stare at him with too much interest, as though they expect him to perform some intricate carnival act.</p><p>All for the sake of debuting his virility and maturity.  </p><p>Fíli is aware – was made aware quite young, in fact – that all those in a line as paramount and distinguished as that of Durin, must endure this torture. He’s been prepared and prepared further for the day his years tick over into adulthood. The unnecessary pomp of being showcased like some prize broodmare— … Fíli grumbles under his breath as his esquire – who he’s never met before – fiddles with the clasps of his cape.</p><p><em>Normally</em>, Fíli dresses himself. <em>Normally</em>, Fíli doesn’t have a roomful of attendants and servants milling about performing various tasks that <em>normally</em> aren’t bothered with. Such as polishing gems on a diadem that was loaned to the Durins by the Longbeards and smoothing the wrinkles in a cape Fíli doesn’t see the practicality in and <em>putting his boots on his feet for him</em>.</p><p>Normally, Fíli is, well, <em>normal</em>.</p><p>           “Not today, pet.” His mother, Lady Dís, says from where she sits primly in an ornate chair in the corner of his bedchamber. Her face softens when Fíli turns his head towards her, expression almost helpless as his esquire starts fastening the ties on the front of his formal surcoat (that he hadn’t owned until today). “Fíli, I understand that this all seems,” She waves a hand flippantly, “Excessive.”</p><p>Fíli huffs and raises a brow.  </p><p>           “And it is,” Dís agrees, “Even I thought so when it was my turn to be debuted. However, fifty is a lot of years as it is few. It should be celebrated!”</p><p>           “It’s not the celebration the concerns me, Amad. It’s <em>all the rest</em>.” Fíli almost chokes as his esquire tightens his collar. “Why bother will all of this when no one else is here as witness?”</p><p>           “<em>Because</em>,” Dís says, tone that of a mother sternly soothing a questioning dwarfling, “Traditions must be upheld.” Her gaze becomes distant when she adds with quiet sadness, “They’re all we have left.”</p><p>Fíli feels the sting of guilt in his heart. He didn’t mean to rouse memories of Erebor, and he can see that it continues to hurt his mother to remember it. And so, he decides, “Very well.”</p><p>The sun shines when Dís smiles and Fíli’s guilt subsides somewhat. For her, Fíli would do anything, including but not limited to – apparently – being wrapped up tighter than a sausage in clothes he’s sure were meant for someone with less bulk. These clothes are certainly not for someone with a body that labours in any way whatsoever; there’s no give in the seams and the layers are so stiff Fíli wonders if they were made to be worn on a statue that has no need for movement.</p><p>           “You look wonderful,” Dís stands and steps up to Fíli, taking his face between her palms and looking at him like the brightest star in the sky, “More majestic than your uncle could ever hope to be.”</p><p>           “Don’t let Uncle hear you say that.” Fíli whispers, teasing.</p><p>           “Oh, posh, what’s he going to do? Brood me to death?”</p><p>Fíli laughs and shakes his head, taking his mother’s hands in his and placing a kiss to her brow.</p><p>           “Right,” He says, “What else should I expect of this evening?”</p><p>Dís’ grin turns absolutely wicked when she answers, “A flush of fathers and mothers arguing at you about the comeliness of their daughters, of course.”</p><p>Fíli blanches, voice abandoning him. All he can do is stare at his mother with wide, frightened eyes while she straightens the shoulders of his cape and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. Even if he was able to say something in his defense, he isn’t sure he would given how much this whole circus means to his mother, to his <em>family</em>.</p><p>No wonder Kíli laughed his arse off the night before when they discussed the astonishing number of visiting maidens.</p><p>Finally, Fíli manages a weak, “I’m to be auctioned off, then, I suppose?”</p><p>           “Don’t be so dramatic.” Dís swats his chest lightly with the back of her hand, “This is typical for all who bleed blue blood. You’re expected to dance with a few ladies and put up with their fathers and that is all.”</p><p>           “That actually sounds quite significant. What if I offend someone!”</p><p>           “You won’t, Fíli. I suspect your brother will find a way to put the offense on himself, if need be.” Dís sucks in a large breath and releases it in a weary sigh. “Darling, everything is going to be alright. Remain kind and show respect as you usually do, and all will be well.”</p><p>Fíli takes a fortifying breath, his mother’s words a comfort. He notices for the first time in minutes that the room has settled around them and his esquire has stepped to the side, waiting patiently for instruction.</p><p>Dís examines Fíli’s attire with a critical eye but Fíli isn’t worried; as foolish as he feels, he suspects this is how his mother wishes to present him and she wouldn’t allow her eldest son, the heir after his uncle, to look like an idiot before such an enormous gathering of important folk.</p><p>No, he isn’t worried until Dís hums in deep consideration and commands his esquire to, “Get the codpiece.”</p><p>As soon as Dís leaves his chambers, his esquire smirks indecorously up at him. “Happy fiftieth,” the scoundrel says, not at all sympathetic to Fíli’s plight, and he gets to work tearing apart what remains of Fíli’s dignity.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fíli is stiff and uncomfortable and he’s inclined to believe he’s offended all the Aratar at once because <em>how does this Dwarf have more to say</em>? Fíli has heard everything from his daughter’s conception (he’s still feeling a bit green behind the jaw at the images that saga conjured) to the poise and grace she shares with her mother to the (Fíli shudders) rather gruesome advent of her ladyhood. </p><p>To his utter despair, his mother sits at his side, smiling warmly like these tales mean something wonderful, tinkling just right at parts Fíli suspects he’s also supposed to find amusing but absolutely doesn’t. </p><p>He doesn’t want to be impolite - is doing everything he can to seem interested in (oh, Mahal) her fastidious ability to bleed a deer - except that her father smells like stale drink and chewed meat and spits around every ‘S’ and ‘T’. Meanwhile, his daughter has moved on from sitting daintily to looking smug, as if her fertility and skill with animal viscera should be celebrated by all. </p><p>Maybe Fíli should ask his mother to mark a new holiday in the calendar so they can put the topic to rest at last. Fíli sinks further into his seat as if he can make himself small enough to disappear and wills the servant handling the wine to make another round just for the interruption. He sneaks a glance at Kíli, halfway down the table on the opposite side, speaking freely and gesturing wildly as he spins some yarn for the entertainment of his neighbors. The guests laugh uproariously, two Dwarves smacking the table hard enough to send their tankards spilling all over their dinnerware, when he’s done, leaning back and laughing with his whole body. </p><p>Fíli’s nearly chokes on his own tongue when Kíli’s movement reveals her. </p><p>He’d met her before, he recalls; was introduced to her at the entrance before the banquet began, but he’d been too preoccupied with making sure he didn’t bow too low and split a seam. </p><p>She’s lovely as a summer morning, with dewy skin and a gentle expression, her glossy hair twisted up in a simple knot (unlike all the other maids around who look as though they’re wearing his mother’s centerpieces on their heads). She emits an aura of calm respect that Fíli can appreciate even from where he sits. And there’s a glint of <em>something </em>in her eye that makes it difficult for Fíli to turn away, something that reminds Fíli of the fire glowing within his mother and brother. </p><p>He doesn’t realize right away when she catches him staring. Apparently it was long enough that even Kíli stopped his storytelling to watch Fíli watch her, not bothering to conceal the glee he feels at Fíli’s expense. </p><p>Kíli raises a brow; Fíli snaps his mouth shut and turns back to the Dwarf who’s moved on to telling them about his daughter’s <em>hips as wide as a heifer’s</em>. </p><p>Fíli holds himself still for another few minutes, the conversation moving along down the row to another father who begins reciting poetry about his own daughter’s achievements - won just by existing with a pretty face - before he has to steal another peek. </p><p>She’s openly looking at Fíli, much to his horror, Kíli leaned close to her ear and shaking with repressed laughter. Fíli is quite relieved to note that she isn’t laughing along (and Fíli doesn’t have to be a wizard to know that whatever Kíli’s saying is about him); instead, she turns a comely shade of pink, the blush high on her cheeks and across her nose and, oh, she’s sweet as a faun! </p><p>Fíli is forced back to the conversation being conducted <em>at </em>him rather than <em>with </em>him at this stage, when the father says, “ — and that’s when she bit the orc’s ear clean off ‘him!” </p><p>He turns a slow gaze back toward his mother who primly ignores him, her hands clasped in a white-knuckled grip her lap and a too-wide smile stretched across her face. </p><p>                “Please,” He grits out from the corner of his mouth in an effort to be subtle, “Let me be excused.”</p><p>                “Not a chance.” Dís hisses back, lips not moving. </p><p>Fíli cringes, listens to another minute of this father’s embellishment, glimpses at the beautiful maid sitting with Kíli and then makes a decision, pushing it out abruptly between his teeth, “I think I’ve found someone who interests me.”</p><p>Dís immediately deflates in relief, “Oh, praise Mahal.” and pushes her seat back, interrupting the father who is now constructing some kind of scale model out of his potatoes. “Right, our deepest apologies but my son needs speak with his uncle, privately. Sensitive matters; you understand.”</p><p>They clearly don’t but no one argues when Dís holds her arm out for Fíli’s to be escorted away. Thorin, who’d been silent in a half-daze at Dís’ other side, comes alive, jerking in his seat and looking about in a fluster. </p><p>                “Speak to me about what?” He asks but Dís has Fíli marching her around the head of the table already. </p><p>                “Hurry up, Thorin, can’t have these matters discussing themselves!” She clips, chin to the ceiling. </p><p>The row of fathers and daughters gape helplessly as Thorin gets to his feet and follows his sister and nephew as majestically as he’s able with a little dribble in his beard, leaving their guests behind to sit awkwardly with one another for the remainder of the evening.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arrangements are made between Dís and Thorin that Fíli finds - rather astonishingly - have nothing to do with him. No input, no consult, no simpering in the corner about <em>her eyes and hair</em> as they try to ignore him while they conduct their business. </p><p>In fact, Fíli is told to leave his uncle’s council chamber and is <em>escorted</em> - like some soft, mollycoddled Prince of Men - by his esquire (who he hadn’t even known before that afternoon!) back to his rooms. His bed is already turned down and two servants appear like phantoms from the shadows to descend upon him and pull apart his costume; in some places, literally, the seams finally surrendering after as difficult a quest as keeping Fíli’s thighs encased. </p><p>His legs feel like uncooked dough and, <em>Oh Mahal Yes</em>, the bloodrush nearly topples him when his cock goes half-hard once the air meets it, ready to rise and praise the Valar for its release from the suffocating codpiece. Bloody traditions need to be examined and remade, Fíli grouses, kicking the boots and bottoms away, shimmying his limbs in an effort to dispel the pins-n-needles prickling under his skin. </p><p>The servants duck and hop around his kicking legs and milling arms, remaining efficient even through Fíli’s steadily mounting impatience to be done with all this. Tomorrow, he soothes, he’ll wake alone to nothing but the warm, hollow echo of the mountain in his ear. A smile spreads across his lips that looks somewhat dopey in the context of the situation but Fíli can’t bring himself to care. </p><p>One of the servants misinterprets his happiness, “Thinkin’ of yer bride-to-be?” </p><p>Fíli chokes, voice snaring itself in pulls as the questions trip out of him. “Pardon? Bride? What do you mean?”</p><p>            “Well. Yer back ‘ere awfully early to not’ve made a match. We’se was only expecting you returned ‘round midnight. Must mean you met yerself a dam.”</p><p>Fíli coughs and shakes himself loose from the servant’s busy hands. He grabs the robe that’s offered to him by his esquire and wraps himself in it, folding himself into the large, cushiony chair set in front of the fireplace. </p><p>            “Something like that, I suppose.” Fíli is hesitant to admit. </p><p>His mother was clear before the banquet that Fíli isn’t obligated to commit to anything as important and life-altering as <em>marriage</em> quite yet - he’s barely over the threshold of fifty, for Aulë’s sake! - but then … she was very keen to take his word for it when he mentioned he <em>somewhat-sort-of-</em><b>noticed</b> someone. As in, thought she was pretty and fair and worth properly introducing himself to. Not as in, <em>I want that one <b>forever</b>, if you’ll kindly wrap her up so that I may take her home</em>. </p><p>No, his mother would surely have warned him if his interest would lead immediately to ceremonial arrangements. He doesn’t want the seriousness of an official courtship. He just didn’t want to listen to that father scar the table further with another tale of his daughter’s <em>virgin prowess</em> - whatever the Halls that means. </p><p>Fíli is traumatized enough, thank you. </p><p>            “Sure it’ll be a beautiful weddin’.”</p><p>            “No one is getting married.” Fíli says sternly. “<em>Meeting</em>, perhaps, but not marriage. So quit fishing for your gossip and consider yourself dismissed for the evening.” Fíli tacks on a stiff, bitten, “Thank you.” when he hears the servants and his esquire rustling out of the room. </p><p>            “Oh,” He groans, slouching in his seat and gazing intently at the high ceiling, “Please tell me I haven’t made a horrible mistake by saying anything to my mother.”</p><p>            “You haven’t made a horrible mistake by saying anything to your mother.” Dís replies on behalf of the Valar Fíli was imploring to. She shuffles in from the door, a roll of parchment in her hand and a motherly smile on her face. “It was Kíli’s girl, was it?”</p><p>Fíli is often blindsided by his mother’s knowledge of all things without needing an explanation but he still allows himself to be baffled. “How did you figure that out?”</p><p>            “I pay attention.” Dís flaps her empty hand and settles herself into the chair opposite Fíli. She fixes her skirts daintily, smoothing out the wrinkles, taking her time because she enjoys watching her sons squirm, Fíli is convinced. “Now,” She says at last, “Thorin has agreed that we should not make this official under the law. Courting is all well and good but, right now, it is to <em>my</em> benefit and that of your uncle that you are merely seen sweeping someone off their feet.”</p><p>            “Uhm. Alright?”</p><p>            “Alright, indeed.”</p><p>            “Please, excuse me Amad, but I don’t follow.”</p><p>            “We’re unabashedly using your interest in this girl to make all those idiots tonight go home. Those numbskulls offer nothing to our court, nothing to the refugees of Erebor, except their daughters who they’re thrusting at us in exchange for opportunity and a title.</p><p>Their daughters are awful now, they’ll be awful in ten, twenty, thirty years. I don’t fancy you courting any of them. Ever. At all.” Fíli’s relieved to hear that. “However, pet, those fathers are going to want to see you courting <em>someone</em>. Proof. Politics.” Dís rolls her eyes, a commiserating grin growing beneath her nose, “Thorin and I discussed it and you’ll court her, publicly. However, we’ve drafted up a courting contract that underscores that this courtship isn’t official. No seals, no witness of intent, no chaperones beyond what’s socially demanded. You’re free to get to know this girl as … ” Dís searches, squinting into the fire, “As a real person. If you two decide you want to scratch each other’s eyes out, you aren’t obligated to continue seeing each other. It’s all rather <em>liberal </em>and <em>loose</em>.”</p><p>            “What does that mean?” Fíli wants to be clear.</p><p>            “Well, my darling, it seems you’re going to be the first in our Line to <em>casually court</em>.” </p>
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